Misleading Headline of the Day

'Baby Jesus found in Waterford' - Irish Times

Irish Times headlines are brilliant.

Ursine Defecation Habits Headline 3

"'God particle' may or may not exist" - Irish Times

 Good to see the paper of record isn't hedging its bets, at any rate.

Televisual Representations

A few days ago, I was talking to my dear friend Saoirse (who, you may recall, has cameoed in these parts before – in point of fact, someone stumbled across this blog by Googling her recently, which is interesting). In the course of this conversation, I mentioned that I have developed a theory whereby various periods of my (projected future) life correspond to sitcoms. Saoirse ran with this idea, featuring her own take on it on her very fine blog. As such, I thought I’d illustrate my original theory.

CURRENT CIARÁN – The Fresh Meat Years

I am not six people. Though I sometimes seem to be.

I’ve been rather enjoying Fresh Meat on Channel 4 (not to mention harping on about it on Twitter). It’s exceedingly relatable for all students, with recognisable characters and situations (the character of Howard is remarkably like a friend of mine, who I will decline to name for reasons of potential libel). That said, I don’t actually relate or indeed correspond directly to any of the characters (though I’m probably closest to Kingsley, being a drama student who is slightly scared of a lot of other drama students). The grubby and indeed sex-obsessed realities of student life are nicely expressed, though, and I defy any student to watch the series without feeling an overwhelming (and possibly uncomfortable) sense of recognition.

CIARÁN + FIVE YEARS – The Spaced Years

This is DEFINITELY me.

Oddly enough, Saoirse and I both settled on this one. This is definitely how I see mid-twenties Ciarán, though: at something of a loose end, living a life of constant reference to popular culture, probably living with a good friend. I’m not a big fan of clubbing, though, and chances are I’ll still be engaged in my academic career in five years, all going well. Like Saoirse (again), I can see a lot of elements of myself in the characters: Tim’s bitterness, Daisy’s procrastination, both of their neuroticism (with a big dollop of Brian thrown in there)... Come to think of it, I’m also not a big fan of dogs (with some exceptions). I’m fine with bamboo, though.

CIARÁN + TEN YEARS – The Big Bang Theory Years

That's most definitely me on the left.

To be perfectly honest, I’m at least Sheldonesque now: pedantic, obsessive, constant sense of superiority, general lack of social skills, probably a nightmare to live with... Aside from the fact that my own academic career is in a very different discipline, and I didn’t enter college at fourteen, we are quite distressingly alike. I’ve actually been trying to gain a rudimentary understanding of physics in the last couple of months, which further cements this particular theory. The reason why I settled on 30ish Ciarán as being Big Bang Theory Ciarán is that, by my current plan, I should be fully qualified with a PhD in ten years, and hopefully be lecturing. Plus I’ll have enough disposable income to buy the eponymous machine from The Time Machine, which I found myself longing for while watching the relevant episode.

CIARÁN + TWENTY YEARS – The Frasier Years

Again with the dog thing, though.

The logical conclusion of all this is that 40-ish Ciarán will be some permutation of the Crane brothers (albeit teetotal, and thus wine- and sherryless). A radio show isn’t a necessity (though it would be nice); rather I’m thinking of the cultural pretensions (read: snobbery) of the brothers. In point of fact, I have a brother who will be qualified as a clinical psychologist in a few years, so the comparison is a good one. I’ve never been able to get into opera, but I have twenty years to do so; plenty of time.

Visual Representations

Apologies for my recent absence from these parts; I have been rather busy in college (though I have been present on my YouTube channels and Twitter). Recently, however, I raised my head from the large pile of Irish plays and commentary on such which surrounded me to discover that there is some kind of election on. Naturally, no election is complete without some commentary on the most superfluous aspects of the campaigns, so allow me to viciously lay into the candidates’ posters for a while.

I shall start with Michael D. Higgins:

While the juxtaposition in the picture above is amusing, I always took Michael D.’s gesture in that poster as being some kind of benediction for the country. Which is rather nice. On a separate note, while Michael D. has been widely compared to Dobby the house-elf, I personally feel he more closely resembles Donegal-based playwright (and hero of mine) Brian Friel. As a result, if he should win the election, I intend to spend the next seven years squinting, in order to pretend that Friel is our president.

Next, I shall move on to Martin McGuinness:

(Yes, I know that’s not a poster, but it’s the same picture as on his posters. Incidentally, as an experiment, I’m going to attempt to lay into McGuinness without mentioning the IRA.)

McGuinness’s smile honestly terrifies me.  It’s so very wide; it genuinely looks as though it’s hurting his face. Either the smile is put on, or else someone had just brought McGuinness (presumably erroneous) news that Ian Paisley had died. I also rather like his slogan “The People’s President”; technically it could mean “the president belonging to the people”, but the Irish translation makes it clear that it actually means “the president of the people” (a sly bit of phrasing there). It does, of course, raise the question of what exactly the other candidates intend to represent. Birds? Trees? Rocks?

(Hurray, I did it! I really didn’t expect to be able to do that. Good for me.)

As for Gay Mitchell’s poster...

...Yeah, I have nothing whatsoever to say about Mitchell. Much like Fine Gael, in fact.

So, on to the Independents, then. Let’s start with Mary Davis:

I’ve been trying to figure out why exactly Davis decided that a full-body shot was necessary for her posters. Is the country more likely to vote for her on the basis of her good child-bearing hips?

(Note: I have absolutely no idea what good child-bearing hips look like.)

Of course, having slagged off these four, I’d be remiss if I didn’t have a go at Seán Gallagher, David Norris and Dana. So here are all of their posters in one picture, conveniently:

Truly eloquent.

Now, I know some folks are glued to this election, but I honestly couldn’t care less. As long as a couple of candidates (not saying who; I try not to obviously take political sides here) don’t get in, I honestly don’t care who does. The two referenda on Thursday are probably far more important for the future state of the country, but there’s been almost no attention paid to them. I always hate this kind of sensationalist politics. The only thing I can say for it is that it’s productive for satirists. Happy days indeed.

Ursine Defecation Habits Headline 2

For background on the notion of the UDHH, check here.

"'War on terror' has failed to deliver peace, study shows" - Irish Times

Really? Because I could have sworn that for the last few years we've all been living in a blissful utopia, and that planet Earth has been renamed "Happy Puppy Sun Land".

Landmark

A whim just moments ago caused me to look up the date of the first WAKE UP post, only to find that the one year anniversary of this blog passed two days ago. As such, here is a big picture of a cake:

Believe it or not, this was one of the first results when I Googled "cake".

 Also, here is a picture of Boris Johnson playing tennis, because I promised myself I would find a place for it:

I invited David Miliband to the WAKE UP anniversary party, but unfortunately I had forgotten about his crippling fear of confetti:

 

 

 

He's seeking help.

So here's to a good year gone by, and a better one to come. Oh, and I'll start counting down to Christmas soon, probably.

Branching Out

Just to confuse things, I have two YouTube channels. One, as I've been mentioning, is dedicated to the sketch-type Wake Up Investigates videos. The other is the YouTube account I've had for years, in which I've recently decided to take a more active role. It'll be used from now on for videos on various topics, possibly including some music. As such, I present the first video from this channel: a lecture-type... thing about whether or not song lyrics can be considered poetry (short answer: yes). Please enjoy.

Missing the Boat

Once again, I find myself in the frustrating position of being able to record a video in time for it to be timely. As such, I present this, which would probably have been more topical a few days ago.

EAST COAST APOCALYPSE

Good evening. In a press conference held earlier today, God admitted what many commentators had speculated in the last few days: that he has recently come to hate the east coast of the United States. The recent earthquake in Virginia and Hurricane Irene only days later were taken as signs of the Almighty’s ire. God would not comment on the reasons for his displeasure, but when leaving the conference he was overheard muttering the words “Jersey Shore” and “worse than Sodom and Gomorrah put together” to the Archangel Gabriel. He later confirmed that these are only the first of a number of plagues he will send to the east coast, potentially building to a complete localised apocalypse by the end of the year. He would not say what form the later plagues would take, though he did drop hints, suggesting the eastern seaboard may wish to stock up on pesticides. In addition, Congress has passed emergency legislation allowing for the evacuation of firstborn children to the Midwest. Recently instated avatar of Death Nick Cave also held a press conference later in the afternoon, confirming that he “is expecting to be kept busy over the coming months”. Talk radio host Rush Limbaugh spent most of his show yesterday discussing how he believed President Obama should “take the fight to God”, and that the Almighty’s actions were “extremely un-Christian”. That’s all for now; good evening.

                                                                                   

As a side note, I’m a little bit horrified that Michelle Bachmann appears to be agreeing with me.

Missed Opportunities

As you may have noticed, I've recently started doing YouTube videos. I actually started writing these a little while ago; I'm attempting to tread my favoured line between topical and surreal. Unfortunately, that means they date quickly, and I've judged a couple of scripts so far to be out of date by the time I came to shoot them. Here's the first of these, which was written just after Enda Kenny dissed the Vatican in the Dáil (it could do with some revision, but I decided to present it warts and all). Hopefully you'll be hearing from Fionn Mahoney soon:

Ciarán: Good evening. Today we have a special report on the meeting between the Papal nuncio and Taoiseach Enda Kenny at Government buildings. As we know, Enda Kenny has been doing little to court Rome’s favour in the past weeks with his strong, condemning response to the Cloyne report. I’m told now that we can go to an audio fragment that was captured earlier of the meeting.

[Sound of snarling and growling, followed by Enda Kenny’s voice saying “You shall not pass!” and the sound of a big explosion.]

Ciarán: So some pretty gripping stuff there. I’m joined by our Dáil correspondent Fionn Mahoney. Fionn, can you shed any light on this strange recording?

Fionn: [N.B. He talks in a strange, lilting Midlands accent, emphasising seemingly random syllables] Yes, I can. It seems that, as expected, Enda Kenny strongly attacked the Papal nuncio upon his entrance. According to my reports, an argument ensued, whereupon the Papal nuncio turned into a large, horned beast and attempted to crush Enda Kenny.

Ciarán: I see. I believe this is unprecedented?

Fionn: Certainly there are no reports of this ever happening before, but it may be a power granted by Rome to all its representatives. It has already been suggested that this may explain the sudden death of Erskine Childers in office.

Ciarán: Any reports yet on how Enda Kenny is? I assume we would have heard by now if he’d been crushed.

Fionn: He was seen shortly after we recorded that piece from earlier, looking “battered but triumphant”, as one onlooker put it. He hasn’t given any official statement yet. In fact, we’ve yet to see the Papal nuncio since the meeting began.

Ciarán: Thank you, Fionn. So there you have it. Today, the Taoiseach did literal battle with the Papal nuncio and may have destroyed him. What will this mean for the Holy See’s relationship with Ireland? That remains to be seen, but I think it’s fair to say that even the Pope will think twice about confronting Enda Kenny now. This has been Wake Up Investigates; thank you for watching.

Here's the second, written in the middle of the London riots. By the time I came to shoot this one, the riots had just died down, so I figured it would seem downright anachronistic. I feel certain you'll be hearing from Jerry Lynch in the future, though. Also note the fact that Iggy Pop is a recurring figure in these videos.

Ciarán: Good evening. Yesterday saw a fourth consecutive day of terrible riots in Britain. The riots, which started in London, have since spread to such cities as Manchester and Birmingham, as well as smaller towns like Gloucester. I’m joined via audio link by our British correspondent Jerry Lynch. Jerry, what can you tell us about the situation on the ground, as it were?

Jerry: Well, it’s absolute bedlam here, and not the good kind that Georgian aristocrats pay to see. There’s been destruction on a remarkable scale here. Cars and buildings have been set on fire, as was Boris Johnson, when he attempted to invite the rioters to what he described as “a jolly game of cricket”.

Ciarán: Reports are coming in that the rioters come from various social backgrounds. Have you seen anything to support this?

Jerry: Oh, most definitely. There’s been a remarkable mix among the rioters. Of course, many of them are wearing masks or balaclavas, to make recognition next to impossible, but I have recognised some, including members of the English Defence League, Gerry Adams, Prince Harry, Hugh Grant, a Dalek and Iggy Pop, singing ‘Search and Destroy’ at the top of his lungs.

Ciarán: What about the response from locals? We’re hearing a lot of stories about local people defending their homes and businesses.

Jerry: There has been a lot of that. I saw one man yesterday challenging a rioter to a duel. Of course, while they were agreeing on seconds, and the time and place of the duel, several other rioters simply broke into the man’s home.

Ciarán: Have you seen much police presence on the streets?

Jerry: Riot police have been sweeping through the streets, but they’re being chronically undermined. Every few minutes, Kenneth Clarke will appear as if from nowhere to make several of them redundant. The newly unemployed men often join the rioters, bringing their shields and truncheons with them.

Ciarán: Thank you Jerry. Well, we’ll continue to bring you the most up to date information as these riots continue. I’ve just gotten word that the Dalek Jerry mentioned has called for back-up, which means that this may escalate into a full-scale invasion. Let’s hope the police and government can develop some way of fighting Daleks as well as rioters. That’s all for now, good evening.

Twins or Doppelgangers?

A remarkable phenomenon was brought to my attention not so very long ago. A friend was working on a dissertation on British novelist Martin Amis, and I noticed from a picture that he bore an uncanny resemblance to Nick Cave (Amis, not my friend). Same permanent expression of disdain, same long face, same greasy, slicked-back hair. Observe:

Cave...

...or Amis?

Welsh-born author...

...or Australian-born musician?

The author of Money...

...or the composer of 'Easy Money'?

Actually, Amis also looks oddly like Neil Young.

The only conclusion is that they are the same person (and may occasionally turn into Neil Young too). Amis is Cave's senior by a good 9 years, so presumably Cave is a second personality that he developed after a while. Really, it's not that surprising; how many outspoken and controversial chroniclers of the postmodern condition can there be?

Suits You, Sir?

I’ve mentioned before my deep regard for the wearing of suits, so it should come as no surprise that I support the new dress code in the Dáil. If you’re not aware of these plans, this article should enlighten you (it’s poorly edited, though; the lack of quotation marks around the word “nonsense” makes it seem that Deaglán de Bréadún shares the opinion of the quoted TDs). Simply put, suits should be worn in the Dáil; anyone who fails to abide by these rules will be disciplined. Interestingly, the original draft of the new code did not mention women at all, making it obvious that it is directed at several specific people; the names that spring to mind being Mick Wallace, Luke “Ming” Flanagan and Richard Boyd Barrett.

Now, my guess is that these three individually want to present themselves as figureheads, or even martyrs if and when the rules come in. Let’s face it, though; they’re not really the most credible of figureheads. Mick Wallace chooses to exhibit his sedition through the unique expedient of wearing a pink shirt.

They say you can see it from space.

As for Flanagan, well, the fact is that I might listen to someone called Luke Flanagan. When he is constantly referred to as “Ming”, though, I feel the strange and irresistible urge to ridicule him, and possibly call Flash Gordon (intriguingly, when I Googled “Ming the Merciless”, Flanagan’s Wikipedia entry is the second search result). As for Richard Boyd Barrett, I don’t really have a particular stick with which to beat him; I just consider him an overly outspoken tool.

It’s only today that I’ve really come to wonder why exactly these fellows make a point of dressing (relatively) casually. On the one hand, I understand that they’re attempting to identify themselves with the ordinary citizens. I have some sympathy with the attempt, and I even think it’s a worthy ambition, but the fact is that the moment they crossed the boundary of Dáil Éireann, they set themselves apart. They were set apart, in fact, by the people investing a certain power in them through representative democracy; I don’t feel it’s unreasonable to suggest that their dress should reflect this privileged position. Indeed, failing to do so almost seems ungrateful. On the other hand, it strikes me that they may be attempting to set themselves apart; to prove that they haven’t joined the political elite. To do this simply by not wearing a suit seems rather disingenuous, and bears the danger of obfuscating more serious issues. If the dissenters wish to set themselves apart and prove their independence, which is laudable in itself, they should do so with their words and actions, not their dress.

I do feel that this matter is nonsense, in the sense of being a non-issue. I’m sure some of the dissenters would at least partially agree with me there, but we would soon part ways, as it were. It’s no secret that the dignity and reputation of the Dáil has been besmirched in recent years (indeed, arguably since at least the time of Jack Lynch) by the actions of some of its more unscrupulous TDs. I believe part of the remit for Enda Kenny’s government is restoring trust in the Dáil, and its dignity; with this in mind, the dress code is important.

It sometimes seems that whenever anyone wants to make a point about Irish political culture, they drag up words like “confidence” and “laughing stock” (almost as much as “sovereignty”, a word thoroughly misused by people in dire need of a dictionary). In this case, however, they are warranted. Confidence is everything in economics, and the sight of a hairy man in a pink shirt as one of the Irish people’s elected representatives would tend to undermine that confidence.

Now, as I’ve suggested, I do have some sympathy with the anti-suit crowd’s aims. Indeed, they will capture my respect if they are prepared to don suits (but not ties, which I think is a fair compromise) for the sake of their constituents. Compromise is a vital feature in politics; without it, Ireland and Britain would both be without governments at the moment, there would be no Anglo-Irish or Good Friday Agreements and no budget would ever make it through any parliament anywhere. I note with approval that Luke Flanagan quit smoking cannabis a few months ago for the sakes of his family and Dáil seat, while continuing to campaign for its legalisation; this is precisely what I mean by compromise. I hope this means that he, at least, will have the sense to don a jacket. It’s really not the end of the world, and it’s certainly preferable to being a News of the World employee*.

I should mention that I do like Flanagan's beard.

* - Yes, I couldn’t get through a whole post this week without mentioning the biggest news story of the week.